DURARARA!! Vol.8 Prologue (Part 1)
I'm translating parts of Vol.8 for a friend, so I thought I'd share. This is my first time ever translating anything, and this is unbeta-ed so I'm sorry in advance for some choppiness and (a lot of) grammar mistakes. I translated from Chinese > English, so some things may have been lost in translation, and I know my vocabulary isn't the greatest, but the parts about Dollars and Mikado in Volume 8 is pretty great stuff, and I just wanted to share.anni_fiesta and differentclouds have done stunning work in the translations of other volumes, so I don't know if I'll continue translating vol.8. Anyway!
Constructive critisism is very much welcome. Please point out any errors you notice so I can fix 'em!
PROLOGUE: Two Sides of the Same Coin@Ikebukuro
July, somewhere in the city
Dollars has changed.
That is what some people whispered in low voices from a coffeshop around the corner.
Did you know that not long ago, Dollars was still an ordinary organization without any strict rules, but now it has completely become a part of the Color Gangs?
The juncture for this particular change, is a certain incident that occurred during the Golden Week in May.
The incident had happened more than two months ago, but even now the scars left over from the wounds which it ripped open had yet to heal.
“Yo, old man, we don't get the meaning of 'taking it slow', so let's just cut straight to the main point.”
It was Tokyo in the nightime.
In an alley not far from the centre of Ikebukuro city, a few young men wearing baggy clothes formed a ring around a white collar worker, trapping him in the midst of their circle.
The man was around forty, and to be suddenly fenced in by a group of young people in this manner felt to him like being pushed into a bottomless pit no better than hell.
“Wha...what's the matter...you guys, are you looking for the wrong person..I didn't do anything wrong...did I?”
As he stared at the group of young men no older than his own son, the terrified man clutched his bag tighter against his chest, trying to protect himself, but faced against four people, this level of protection was clearly not enough.
“Didn't ya hear us, let's fucking get straight to the main point! Hmph! We're Dollars, haven't ya heard of us? Right now, we're raising funds, so help us out, and hand over all the money in your wallet.”
The young man said this with a contrived air while patting the older man's cheeks repeatedly. Startled out of his drunken stupor, the man immediately squeezed out a obliging smile.
“Ah...ha ha, Dollars...I know, I'm also one.”
“Ah?!”
“S-See, on the Internet...”
The man held out his mobile phone as he spoke, but one of the young men caught hold of his extended arm, and with a smile, twisted his arm behind his back. The phone fell from the man's hands onto the ground, hitting the floor with a cracking sound.
“Ah....Ah! That hurts....!”
The man cried out in pain. The young man holding his arm behind his back leaned his mouth closer to the man's ears, and said in a nasty tone, “If that's the case, all the more reason for you to give your Dollars buddies a bit of pocket money, since you're our senior and all, eh?”
Hearing this, the rest of the group began chanting in unison.
“All the fathers in Japan, how you've really worked hard for us!”
“Oooh, how we want to honour you properly!”
The young men put up a great show of phony affection, hooking their arms around the man's shoulders in a frivolous manner, but this only served to intensify the man's terror. He even started to feel he'd rather be forced to “hand over his money” by this group of people. The way things were going, he feared that even if he did so he wouldn't be able to escape unscathed.
The man glanced over his back, and decided to try his luck in escaping--
But when he saw that another group of young people were blocking that way too, he fell into momentary despair.
However--he wasn't the only person whose face clouded over with shadows the second he saw the group.
“...what the fuck do you guys want?”
“What are ya looking at? Piss off!”
The teenagers who were attempting extortion tried to intimidate by issuing threats--but obviously, it did not even affect the small group of people blocking the road, and only served to increase the level of mounting tension and enmity in the air.
Although the figures blocking the road had different body shapes and sizes, each one of them wore a similar mask.
Well, it was called a mask, but it was laughably simple, nothing more than a cap made out of cloth with slits cut out for the eyes. The “cap” covered their entire head, eerily resembling the teeth of a shark, giving off an indescribably bone-chilling sensation.
It was strange.
They didn't look as if they were out to intimidate people, and they probably weren't a bunch of drunks' idea of a prank, and they didn't look like a performance arts group, or a neighbour watch or anything like that.
The first thing the group of teenagers thought of was a violent group named “Toramaru” from Saitama who were caught in a confrontation with Dollars a couple of months ago.
They became nervous, scared that these people who looked like they might be from Toramaru had purposely covered their faces with the sole intention of hurting them.
After a few seconds of tense silence, one of the masked men said pleasantly, “We're also from Dollars, do you want us to help?”
“Ah..?”
“......”
The group of teenagers frowned in confusion, and the man who was cowering against a corner of the street wall was so terrified he had momentarily lost his ability to speak.
“H-hey, wh-why do I need to share my money with you...just piss off!”
Knowing the other side was also Dollars, the teenagers who had let their guard down replied them rudely.
Upon hearing this, the group of masked men looked at each other, and waved their hands in a gesture of dismissal.
“Ah, no, no, I'm afraid you've misunderstood us.”
“Huh?”
Just as the leader of the teenagers was glaring furiously at the group of masked men, he heard a blunt sound “THWACK!” come from somewhere behind him.
He turned around--not far behind him stood a young man wearing the same mask and holding a baseball bat in his hands, while laid out on the ground out was one of his own comrades.
“You...you...bastard...!”
Behind the masked teenager holding a baseball bat, stood a small group of people wearing the same mask. The group of teenagers who had been trying to extort money from the older man finally understood the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.
Not a single passerby had walked past them. In this narrow alley, they have been completely surrounded and cut off from escape.
At this time, one of the masked men spoke.
“All right, hand over all your cellphones, and let us assist you in making your withdrawal procedures from Dollars.”
The masked person smiled crookedly as he adjusted the strange cap on his head, the joints of his neck making creaking sounds as he flexed his arms.
“Leaving people like you guys in Dollars, will only ruin our plans.”
“Our boss plans to get rid of scum like you.”
Dollars has changed.
This is what some people whispered in low voices by alleys along the roadside.
In this group--you no longer have the freedom to spend your days leisurely.
END OF PROLOGUE.
Constructive critisism is very much welcome. Please point out any errors you notice so I can fix 'em!
PROLOGUE: Two Sides of the Same Coin@Ikebukuro
July, somewhere in the city
Dollars has changed.
That is what some people whispered in low voices from a coffeshop around the corner.
Did you know that not long ago, Dollars was still an ordinary organization without any strict rules, but now it has completely become a part of the Color Gangs?
The juncture for this particular change, is a certain incident that occurred during the Golden Week in May.
The incident had happened more than two months ago, but even now the scars left over from the wounds which it ripped open had yet to heal.
“Yo, old man, we don't get the meaning of 'taking it slow', so let's just cut straight to the main point.”
It was Tokyo in the nightime.
In an alley not far from the centre of Ikebukuro city, a few young men wearing baggy clothes formed a ring around a white collar worker, trapping him in the midst of their circle.
The man was around forty, and to be suddenly fenced in by a group of young people in this manner felt to him like being pushed into a bottomless pit no better than hell.
“Wha...what's the matter...you guys, are you looking for the wrong person..I didn't do anything wrong...did I?”
As he stared at the group of young men no older than his own son, the terrified man clutched his bag tighter against his chest, trying to protect himself, but faced against four people, this level of protection was clearly not enough.
“Didn't ya hear us, let's fucking get straight to the main point! Hmph! We're Dollars, haven't ya heard of us? Right now, we're raising funds, so help us out, and hand over all the money in your wallet.”
The young man said this with a contrived air while patting the older man's cheeks repeatedly. Startled out of his drunken stupor, the man immediately squeezed out a obliging smile.
“Ah...ha ha, Dollars...I know, I'm also one.”
“Ah?!”
“S-See, on the Internet...”
The man held out his mobile phone as he spoke, but one of the young men caught hold of his extended arm, and with a smile, twisted his arm behind his back. The phone fell from the man's hands onto the ground, hitting the floor with a cracking sound.
“Ah....Ah! That hurts....!”
The man cried out in pain. The young man holding his arm behind his back leaned his mouth closer to the man's ears, and said in a nasty tone, “If that's the case, all the more reason for you to give your Dollars buddies a bit of pocket money, since you're our senior and all, eh?”
Hearing this, the rest of the group began chanting in unison.
“All the fathers in Japan, how you've really worked hard for us!”
“Oooh, how we want to honour you properly!”
The young men put up a great show of phony affection, hooking their arms around the man's shoulders in a frivolous manner, but this only served to intensify the man's terror. He even started to feel he'd rather be forced to “hand over his money” by this group of people. The way things were going, he feared that even if he did so he wouldn't be able to escape unscathed.
The man glanced over his back, and decided to try his luck in escaping--
But when he saw that another group of young people were blocking that way too, he fell into momentary despair.
However--he wasn't the only person whose face clouded over with shadows the second he saw the group.
“...what the fuck do you guys want?”
“What are ya looking at? Piss off!”
The teenagers who were attempting extortion tried to intimidate by issuing threats--but obviously, it did not even affect the small group of people blocking the road, and only served to increase the level of mounting tension and enmity in the air.
Although the figures blocking the road had different body shapes and sizes, each one of them wore a similar mask.
Well, it was called a mask, but it was laughably simple, nothing more than a cap made out of cloth with slits cut out for the eyes. The “cap” covered their entire head, eerily resembling the teeth of a shark, giving off an indescribably bone-chilling sensation.
It was strange.
They didn't look as if they were out to intimidate people, and they probably weren't a bunch of drunks' idea of a prank, and they didn't look like a performance arts group, or a neighbour watch or anything like that.
The first thing the group of teenagers thought of was a violent group named “Toramaru” from Saitama who were caught in a confrontation with Dollars a couple of months ago.
They became nervous, scared that these people who looked like they might be from Toramaru had purposely covered their faces with the sole intention of hurting them.
After a few seconds of tense silence, one of the masked men said pleasantly, “We're also from Dollars, do you want us to help?”
“Ah..?”
“......”
The group of teenagers frowned in confusion, and the man who was cowering against a corner of the street wall was so terrified he had momentarily lost his ability to speak.
“H-hey, wh-why do I need to share my money with you...just piss off!”
Knowing the other side was also Dollars, the teenagers who had let their guard down replied them rudely.
Upon hearing this, the group of masked men looked at each other, and waved their hands in a gesture of dismissal.
“Ah, no, no, I'm afraid you've misunderstood us.”
“Huh?”
Just as the leader of the teenagers was glaring furiously at the group of masked men, he heard a blunt sound “THWACK!” come from somewhere behind him.
He turned around--not far behind him stood a young man wearing the same mask and holding a baseball bat in his hands, while laid out on the ground out was one of his own comrades.
“You...you...bastard...!”
Behind the masked teenager holding a baseball bat, stood a small group of people wearing the same mask. The group of teenagers who had been trying to extort money from the older man finally understood the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.
Not a single passerby had walked past them. In this narrow alley, they have been completely surrounded and cut off from escape.
At this time, one of the masked men spoke.
“All right, hand over all your cellphones, and let us assist you in making your withdrawal procedures from Dollars.”
The masked person smiled crookedly as he adjusted the strange cap on his head, the joints of his neck making creaking sounds as he flexed his arms.
“Leaving people like you guys in Dollars, will only ruin our plans.”
“Our boss plans to get rid of scum like you.”
Dollars has changed.
This is what some people whispered in low voices by alleys along the roadside.
In this group--you no longer have the freedom to spend your days leisurely.
END OF PROLOGUE.